Green is the Colour of Grass
by OkitaRin
Summary: This is the oh-so-wonderful tale of a Sue... a absolutely perfect being... that suddenly decides one day that she didn't want to be a Sue anymore. And so, she tries to change. But really...? Is it really that easy? Oh hell no, it isn't. PLEASE READ!


**Hello! Firstly, I would like to thank you for clicking onto this. And before you read this chapter, I want to inform you that this story will be a light and (hopefully) humorous read. There will be no serious plot, only the antics of a rebellious Sue as she tries to change is an AU and so, the setting will be of everyday Konoha where Sasuke never left to join Orochimaru. **

**I do not own Naruto. I only own the idea of this story... oh and my Sue of course.**

**Editor: Pecha Pichu**

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Alysia M'alice Harmony Fishfingers lingered around the grimy wall, her pale figure drenched in moonlight. Long fingers dug beautifully into the gritty bricks, crushing them effortlessly and when she finally drew her fingers from the cement, they were just as clean as ever. No gritty remains on her perfect, unblemished nails, no blood and no particular scratches on her pale fingers.

Her long, lime green hair piled down her thin shoulders in a cascade, curling along her waist. Her natural strands swung lazily in the night while her long, pure white dress hung lightly off her figure and blew impressively in the non-existent wind. A set of deep sea eyes stared knowingly-piercingly out to the darkness, twinkling like ancient stars.

Where normally there would be unblemished skin, there was a long jagged scar that echoed down her neck, over her collarbone and onto her right arm where it swirled into her elbow and disappeared. It glinted in the moonlight, stark white against her pale skin. Yet despite its ugliness, it only served to heighten her beauty, bringing a mysterious aura.

An overlarge sword hung over her petite figure, its heavy metal bearing down upon the small of her back. Yet despite the fact that the sword must have weighed three times as much as the girl herself, she felt no discomfort. In fact, she felt perfectly fine wielding and swinging a sword around, one that weighed three times as much as wielder herself.

The weapon itself was, in one word, beautiful. With a brilliant hilt and enormous yet elegant blade, the sword was one of its kind, something so unique and rare that even the Sharingan couldn't compare to it. Nor the Byakugan. Nor the Rinnegan cause swords nowadays are just so much cooler than Bloodline Limits.

But this girl… she's had a hard life. Her parents, her family, her friends… everyone had been killed- murdered when she was very young. For one unknown and mysterious reason, she was the only one to escape. It was a curse, she would consider to herself. It was a curse that she, a little toddler back then, was able to fight off all those professional assassins and escape while all the adults, all the older people with more experience and better fighting skills then her, were slaughtered.

And so, she had fled out into the streets of Suna, living off by small bread crusts and charity from the kind citizens. Alysia was a prodigy that was never officially titled. Having mastered the art of complete chakra control at the tender age of six, she had then proceeded to master the most complex of jutsus in a matter of a few years, whereas it would have taken an adult their whole life to master. She wasn't a genius, but she was damn close.

It was also throughout her street life that she had made a few friends that loved her like a little sister. And it was as a little sister that she promised herself to protect her friends she loved- the older brother and sister that she never had.

But one day, she had failed. She had failed to protect her friends. She blamed herself constantly, despite the fact that, even the dumbest, least deductive brain can point out logically that it wasn't. Even to this day, she blamed herself for the gruesome death of her friends, having been traumatised by their scarlet blood that had somehow splattered beautifully onto her face at the time of their death, even though she had been overlooking the incident from a faraway distance.

Thoughtfully, her pale, long fingers swept up angrily into a dainty fist. It was that dainty fist that was raised, shaking hopelessly to the sky- no, to the moon for more dramatic effect. Her eyes were murderous, trembling with tears that would never fall. Then her full lips moved to reveal a row of perfect teeth as she hollered to the sky. Why. _Why. Why must-_

"DAMN AUTHOR WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO ME?"

And that was the how this tale began. The tale of the Sue who didn't want to be a Sue.

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**Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review :D It'll determine whether or not I should continue this, depending on its response. Thankyou!**


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